


A Sour Taste

by Linorien



Series: Twin Tales [9]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25786606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linorien/pseuds/Linorien
Summary: Pretending to be a noble was hard, but he didn't expect that to include denying who he was.
Series: Twin Tales [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1228421
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	A Sour Taste

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: mistaken identity  
> Although in this case, it's more that Lance has to convince them that it was a mistake

Lancelot never planned on changing his identity to fit in. He was proud of who he was, where he came from. But when Merlin opened the door for him to become a knight, he walked into the lie. Merlin assured him it wouldn’t change anything, not really, it was just a foot in the door and he would prove his merit on his own, by being Lancelot. 

Unfortunately, Lancelot discovered that there was more to the lie. He couldn’t just say he was Lord Eldred’s son. He had to act like a noble. 

With the help of Gwen, he learned to dress in finer clothes. 

By following Leon’s example, he learned how to speak like a noble, particularly how to address the townsfolk. (He was well aware that not all nobles treated those below them as respectfully as Leon, but if he did have to pretend to be a noble, he didn’t want to also pretend to be a prick.)

And because of all the noble pricks, he learned how to deny his upbringing.

“I don’t remember you when I visited Sefan two winters ago,” Sir Bedievere commented after training one day. 

“I spent the winter further south,” he replied. 

“How do you know so much about growing crops?” Sir Mark questioned, overhearing a conversation in the market. 

“My father taught me. Thought it was important.” Which it was, to a farmer. But keeping it vague allowed the other knight to assume he was taught farming practices to better tax his future estate. 

“You look familiar,” a travelling merchant commented when Lancelot was buying honey comb. It had always been a favourite sweet of his. The way it coated your tongue was decadent and the sticky mess only made it better. “I think I used to see you further south.”

Lancelot’s mouth was too full of honey to say anything. 

“Yes! You and your friend used to be the first in line when I stopped in Corvon’s capital. You’re Ban’s son, aren’t you?”

For a moment, Lancelot’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe this traveller was able to exactly remember who he was. Had he been friend’s with his father? Lancelot couldn’t remember. But he knew how merchant’s talked and he knew he would have to deny it. “No, my father is Lord Eldred. You must be mistaken.”

“No, can’t be. You’ve got his nose and your mother’s complexion. You’ve gotten so tall. What brought you to Camelot?”

Lancelot shook his head again. “I grew up here. Again, you’re mistaken. Thank you for the honey.”

He walked fast, putting distance between him and the merchant. Passing Gwaine in the streets, he gave his friend the rest of his honey comb. It’s sweetness had soured in his mouth. 


End file.
